Holding Out For a Hero
by Lady Starscream
Summary: In the wake of a mission gone awry, Jade discovers the American Bots aren't the only Cybertronians of the Autobot faction on Earth. The only problem with that is, the mech thinks she's a Decepticon. This is how Jade and Klutch first met. OC Centric.
1. Jade's Story

another fanfic referenced in the RP Series fic "The Wrong Side of Right". This one wasn't actually caused by WSR like *some* fics were *eyes certain fanfics*, but rather was a pre-existing headfic. I was supposed to write it before the RP Series, but I just never got around to it till now. And my headspace-fics move ten times faster than my fingers can sometimes.

Anyway, this is how Jade and Klutch first met.

Also, warning gfor minor dialogue-skewing at the end of the fic. I'm an American, trying to make the readers imagine an english accent. I apologise in advance.

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*Jade's Story*

"After her you idiots!" Megatron's angry declaration sounded behind the jet as she streaked out of the Decepticon base's boarding dock, engines screaming with effort. The evening air was cool around her, and somewhat moist. The bright light from the watever-it-was that had activated in the control room a few short minutes ago had nearly blinded her, but she guessed it had also blinded whichever Decepticons were in the room. The cylindrical whatever-it-was glowed brightly from within her shattered cockpit. The jet cursed and dipped lower. She couldn't see where she was going. Wait, or could she? That was strange... the device, Scythe had referred to it as "the Transmognifier", was feeding her information. Rerouting her sensors somehow so she could almost tell where the ground was. She couldn't see the Earth below her, or the edge of the land where the ocean began. She heard weaponfire whiz past, then her radio crackled to life. "You won't... worry about them... while...safe..." the message dissapeared into static. She couldn't tell whether it was Windstriker or Wyldkat, but she was thankful for the distraction, whoever it was. "Thanks, I'll meet you back at homebase." Jade responded, hoping her message got through. She kept going, not knowing whether home was the direction she flying in going or not.

The device hummed softly, then dissapeared into subspace. Jade started at the sensation, realising she'd been drifting off to sleep. She forced her engines to keep going on full. She couldn't tell how much time had passed, or where she was. The land finally appeared on her sensors, what she could tell of them, anyway, and she thankfully dipped lower, searching for as place to set down. Her fuel sensor bleeped, a little red light coming on in her peripherals. "I'd better find a place to land soon, or I'm gonna crash." she mused. The beeping intensified, and the femmeseeker finally turned it off. Her optics were starting to refocus after the electromagnetic flash that had blinded her a few hoours ago. The ground came back into focus bit too late though.

"EEEK!" the jet shrieked, and slmmed into a tree, twirling around to do a 360 before careening off the edge of the hill down into the gravel pit below. It was only a 50 foot drop, but all Jade could see was a series of light and shadows. "Heeeeellllpppp!" the jet screamed, and slammed into the ground on her back, bouncing off the rocky gravel onto her front. The world faded away, and her conciousness gave away to sleep.

When the world came back to her, it was daylight. Jade looked up at the high rises on either side of her, not knowing where she was, or how long she had been asleep. She tried her radio to find whatever part of it was undamaged had been doomed by her little crash. Footsteps crunched nearby. Jade tried to move, roll over, anything! Her limbs felt like logs. Too heavy to move, too tired to fight. The shadow fell across her, and a voice sounded.

"well well well, what 'ave we heah?"

At first Jade was thankful it wasn't the decepticions, but then realised something was very, very wrong here. That wasn't any Autobot she knew! The voice had a distinctly british lilt to it. "Oh crud." The jet mumbled. "Well, it's not very often we get a Decepticon to crash land in ouh laps around heah." the voice sounded amused. Jade cursed more vehemently mentally. Just who was this guy? And she didn't know there were Autobots in... wait, how did she get all the way to England? The femmeseeker quickly backtracked her thoughts through the previous night. Escape, ocean, land... oh crud. "Ugh." was all she could manage. She was too tired for this. She just wanted to go back to sleep and wake up at home, in the nice, warm, *friendly* ark. And that was saying something, considering she included Cliffjumper's foul mouth in that bunch.

Helicopters sounded in the distance, the sound gradually loudening as they got closer. Jade sighed and just hoped they would figure out who she was and call her friends in the states. Right now... sleep was beckoning, and she gladly gave in to it.

Personal logfile, July 23rd, 1986 (one hour after being taken...wherever I am.)

I keep telling myself that I have to wake up, not give up hope. I can tell there are humans nearby. I can hear them milling about. I don't know what's wrong with my optic that I can't see. The beating I must've taken at the hands of the Decepticons must have done more damaghe than I though. I wish I could speak, but it would seem something is wrong with my vocoder, as well. I try to speak, but all that comes out is a strange clicking noise. If only I could tell them I was under cover, and that I'm really an Autobot. Hm.  
I tried moving my limbs, and though I'm upright, I can't seem to move. Hopefully the Decepticons didn't manage to get their hands on me. That would suck royally. No, I could have sworn the last thing I saw was a ble mech wearing the Autobot symbol. hmm.

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Endnotes: this directly follows a fic I wrote very early into my fanhood, that will more than likely be included/flashed back to later. Just as soon as I figure out where it fits into the timeline. It's post 3rd War Series, but pre-RP Series, if that makes any sense at all. Scythe's team left, I suppose? I dunno.

More soon.


	2. Mike Brandt's Story

Author's Notes: Jade was in the Nemesis, masquerading as a Decepticon. She still has the symbols on her wings, so now we have a bunch of humans and one Cybertronian who think she is a Decepticon. Here's part two.

Warning for violence, angst, mild torture, and all that.

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*Mike Brandt's Story*

The tall, skinny, brunette man circled the jet, who had been secured in an "x" shape in one of the holding rings in the detaining bay. The giant ring was held into place with several cables that attatched to the high ceiling, and a wide base, with shackles on the upper and lower parts to hold the seeker's limbs out away from it's body and any possible weapons stashed in subspace.

He checked the readings on his scanner, and circled it one more time. The 'gag chip' they had developed was working nicely. It couldn't vocalise or call to it's comrades to rescue it. Nope, this was one less Decepticon they would have to worry about fighting come tomorrow. That was, if the commander said they could deactivate it. Sometimes he liked to do other things first. Ask it questions, maybe try to pry information away from it. Or maybe mess with it's neurocircuitry. He was getting pretty good at that. His creator, Ribar, had been a bit more... what was the word? not nice about it nessesarily, just... I suppose a bit less heavy-handed, if you will. Maybe a bit... gentler? was that the word he was looking for?

Klutch, well, he'd just switch two wires and be done with it, if it meant getting more information about the Decepticons and their latest plans. The human "hmm"ed and typed something else on his datapad, a human-sized version of a cybertronian datapad Ribar had designed for the human engineers and technologists here at "the Center" to use.

The human thought for a second, then typed a couple more notes. It wasn't like it felt anything. At least, that's what the science team allways told them. That the Decepticons were war machines, and didn't feel anything. It wasn't like they were human or anything. They were machines, the man thought.

"Brandt." one of the others called, prying off another lower leg panel and tossing it aside. "Don't." Brandt held up a hand to stop him. "We don't know what the commander wants to do. Let's wait till he gets here."

Michael Brandt, 32, who had skipped out on going to a technical college so he could come work at the center. The top-of-the-totem pole government job his dad had worked at before him. He had known some people, so when Brandt decided to drop out of university, his father had helped him get the job here. At first, it had been a job as a repair technician. The dishwater blonde pushed his glasses up on his nose a little further and peered into the open panel. The thing... the Decepticon clicked. He glanced up, noticing how it squiggled. "Oh no, you're not goin anywhere anytime soon." Brandt smirked, patting the leg in a sarcastic mockery of comfort. One of the things he didn't really have to worry about was talking to these creatures. These... things. Not that he really thought they could understand him anyway. They were alien, completely foreign, and would probably just as soon step on you as look on you. It was a known fact that Decepticons hated humans with a passion.

He remembered two winters ago, when his little brother and his mom had been on their way home. A trio of Decepticons had somehow crossed paths with them, and the three fliers had taken turns shooting at their car, laughing as Mrs. Brandt swerved and nearly crashed in a blind panic. Over and over again, they fired at the back end of the car, spurring the humans to drive faster, and laughing at the poor humans as their panick increased, trying to navigate the slippery roads. Mike had luckily been at work, and hadn't been there. He knew he would have shot the bastards in midair had they crossed his path. But His mom and younger brother, well, they had tried to outrun the three seekers, who merely chased them around the winding mountain roads, taunting and shooting at their car. Eventually one of the shots went through the trunk, another punctured a tire, and the car slid off the road. It careened down a steep incline, and slammed into a tree.

Mike shook the thought out of his head, silently swearing revenge on all the Decepticons. He had sworn that if he ever crossed paths with any of those winged machines, he would get his revenge. Now, it looked like he had that chance.

He was just glad his mom and little brother had survived, even though his mum had a broken hip, leg, concussion, and had to be literally peeled out of the car. He cringed to think what might have happened to the two of them if they hadn't been wearing their seatbelts. He was so glad Klutch's team had recieved the call as it went through to the emergency crews. The rescue squad hadn't taken along the machinery nessesary to cut open the car and free Mike's family. But Klutch had done some quick thinking and used the lasertorch he carried with him to get through the thin metal.

When Mike tried to thank him, Klutch merely smiled and said a humble "you're welcome." not caring that he had sliced his hands to ribbons prying open the sharp-edged metal of the vehicle.  
Mrs. Brandt and Dave, his little brother, had been taken to the local hospital. Thankfully, none of their injuries were that bad, except maybe the broken bones. He looked up at the huge red mech, who was making clicking noises, squirming in it's restraints, and muttered "You've had this coming for a long time." He shoved the shock stick into the open circuitry, earning a muffled wail from the bound Decepticon. Brandt snickered. He realised the other technician was looking at him rather oddly, so he paused. "Allright, fine. I'll wait till the commander gets here." he sighed, hoping Klutch would hurry it up and tell them what to do with this... thing.


	3. Klutch's Story

*Klutch's story*

Klutch sat in his office, pouring over the day's reports. He sighed. Every new acquisition had to be logged. Physical attributes had to be recorded, verification of guilt before he could do anything with 'it'. He looked down at the form on datapad before him, and remembered back to when a winged Decepticon had nearly taken the life of the family of one of his best repaircrew/technicians.. Now, he had one of those seekers in custody. The blue mech turned his hand over, tracing one particularly noticeable scar across the palm of his right hand. He smiled slightly as he remembered how he had though it wouldn't scar up so bad. But it had left a light little line. "A constant reminder of what the decepticons are capable of, I suppose." he said to himself. He looked across the office to the top of the bookshelf where a framed picture of his creator and himself sat. Both of them were covered with splatters of mud and both wearing wide, silly grins. The yellow minispy, his creator, had a ball of mud in one hand. Klutch chuckled and felt a stab of hurt at the memory. His creator had chucked it at the back of his head as soon as the picture was snapped. It hurt him to think of how the Decepticons had brutally beaten and shot his creator, ripping of his armor plating and handfuls of wiring, then just leaving him there on that little island in the middle of that lake to die.

Klutch looked back down at the papers. No, the seekers had to die. And this one, it was time, he decided, for both himself and for his technicians to finally do something, to get rid of the Decepticons, and for his revenge, and anyone else in the center who wanted revenge on the Decepticons. He was pretty sure there were more people than just one who wanted a peice of the cons. The Decepticons had ruined the lives of many humans. And the American Autobots never did anything. Oh, sure. chase them away from a power plant, shoot at them so they leave the engineering facility or whatever it was they were attacking. Did they ever try to stop shooting at the Decepticons long enough to rescue the humans trapped in the building the Decepticons had demolished to obtain their energy? no. Did they ever capture or emprison Decepticons? no. All they did was chase the decepticons away, time after time. Stand there watching the building fall down, go up in flames, and just stand around afterward, apologising to people. "They never do any real work to get rid of the threat." Klutch thought. "They think that chasing the Decepticons around in circles all day and all bloody evening is good enough. Well, it isn't."

Klutch typed in the final bit of information, and dropped the datapad onto his desk. There. It was done. It had his signature on it, the Decepticon was his to do with as he wanted, now. All he had to do was file the report with the general, and it woul all be over. Or just beginning. A small smirk formed around his lip-components. Those evil Decepticons had this one coming. And even the humans had agreed that something more needed to be done rather than just chase the Decepticons away every time they attacked. One less Decepticon to attack the humans was one less Decepticon that would kill humans, and that would equal lives saved.

Klutch was a little bit thankful the government had found a human who agreed with his point of view on the subject. The human government had put a human in charge of the Lansington Research and Technology center, so it would be easier to explain the facility to other humans. Nobody liked the idea of a giant alien robot running amock doing taboo (to human) experimentation on other Cybertronians. But if humans were doing it? why of course. It would be in the name of science, technology, and advancement. Why, humans had been doing it ever since old what's-his-name electrocuted an elephant to prove the existence of electricity, and the ability to transfer it through wires. Heck, humans even electrocuted their own kind, if they had committed a heinous enough crime. And murder was certainly not beyond Cybertronians, either. The Decepticons were murderers and crimnals of the worst calliper. Why shouldn't they be subject to the laws of the planet they reside on?"

Klutch nodded to himself and picked up the datapad, walkig out of his office. He was sure General McKentrey would be happy to see one less Decepticon on this planet tomorrow. Yes.  
And maybe, just maybe, they might learn a little something new about the Decepticons. At least klutch hoped so. Any help they could get nowadays was much welcomed. And any weapons with which to fight (and hopefully eliminate) the bastards that killed his creator would be much appreciated.


End file.
